Whoa boy what a Monday. Started with the migraine from you-know-where, which threw my whole day off from 6AM on. In fact, I’m still fighting it, but that could be because of what happened about 10 this morning.

I hadn’t expected it so soon, but got the response on my submission to an editor I pitched to in NJ. Yeah, response. A.K.A. rejection. My mystery was “lackluster” and even though she loved (her word, not mine) elements of LET’S DISH, she thought the story was not original enough.

Sigh.

So it’s not like rejection is anything new. Any writer out there who has submitted anything has been rejected at least once, and probably countless times. But I had a good feeling about this one. And I’ll admit it, the lackluster comment took a little wind out of my sails. Kind of an ouch, although the lady was very kind in her rejection. It’s not like she wrote, “Gee, this book sucks. What the hell were you thinking?”

So whenever this happens, I see myself at a crossroads. You see, I am incredibly fortunate. I’m good at my 9-5 job and could advance more if I chose to, but that would require some school. As in grad school. Which would take any time I have left in my life that I dedicate to my writing. Then again, I’m not too thrilled with the idea of grad school. But then again, I could just dive into it for a couple years and be qualified to do a boatload of stuff, including being an elementary pricipal. As if I would want to.

But it would mean saying goodbye to the writing, at least for now. Hell, it’s not like I’ve dedicated myself to it all that much lately. But this is something I’ve done since I was a kid. It’s not like my brain is going to stop writing just because I’ve stopped typing it out.

Yes, I think this is a crossroads all wannabe writers come to. Multiple times, probably. And it’s not unusual and it can’t discourage me. Although, sometimes I wonder if God gave me a good many things that I’m good at, but in which I’m just not good enough. I’m a good violinist, but not that good. I’m a good singer, but not good enough to ever do anything professional other than being a music teacher. I’m a good writer, but not good enough to actually make it as a writer.

But heck… I like beating my head against walls. I’ll probably pitch in Green Bay.

Hey! Here’s the post I lost the other day! It saved it. Hehehe… not that it’s relevant anymore, but…

So I did NaNoWriMo this year. Why did I do that? What was the point? To prove that I no longer have a schedule that fits 50,000 words into one month?

Well, to be fair, if I were really dedicated to it, I could fit 50K into a month again. I remember my first NaNo, nursing a baby in one hand and typing with the other. Um… not quite. Now that I do my math, I realize that my first NaNo was in 2002 when the baby was 2. And there is no way I nursed that long. Nope, the nursing and typing was while writing my first, completely unreadable book. The point is, when I really wanted to write every night, I did. Now, somehow, I am not that dedicated to NaNo.

In my opinion, NaNo is for people who want to write a book. A lot of people who have written books do NaNo, too, and it works for them. It worked for me twice. But I’ve written five novels now. When is it time for me to say when on the whole NaNo thing? I’m thinking it’s at having written five novels.

So I didn’t write 50K last month, nor did I finish the book. But I will. Oh, I’ll admit that I don’t write as much as I used to, in the days before heavy duty 9-5 responsibilities and Cub Scouts, but I am still very capable of writing a novel front to back. Not finishing NaNo not withstanding. So will I do NaNo next year? Nope. No more beating my head agai

Probably because I can’t spell it… I originally posted this with the word spelled Tehcnology. Yeah. That’s me. Cate-onese. So, anyway, since I have no idea how RSS feeds work and that, I thought I should amend this little entry to admit I can’t spell worth a darn. Or type, either.
Back to your regularly scheduled blog…

I sat here for about a half hour last night tapping out a lovely blog for you. It was all about how I didn’t finish NaNo and how it’s just not for me anymore. Yes. I was waxing poetic about my hay day of NaNo. 2002 was the most fun I’d ever had writing. That was four years and five novels ago. NaNo and me… we’ve officially split. Call the tabloids, ’cause it’s over.

Anyway, I went on and on about that for a while, then tried to post it. At that point, my browser did the Macarena and refused to post anything. Then it dumped my post. One would think that would teach me to compose a blog on the webpage, but guess what I’m doing right now. Yeah, I’m slow.

But you have the basics there. NaNo. Me. Over. Can I write 50K in a month? If I wanted to. But somehow I think my process has evolved. And apparently that evolution involves using my plot as a sleep aid. Better than Ny-Tol, I’m telling you.

The darling hubby was snoring like a freight train last night… or something that makes a huge amount of odd noises. He didn’t start right away. No. He let me just get to that almost asleep phrase where your brain goes, “I need to pay the light bill tomorrow… with ponies. All the pretty ponies. They’re pink and wearing tutus…zzzzz.” And then from the other side of the bed…

Zkachulftz!

So much for pretty ponies. But they annoyed me anyway, so I could live without them. But what was really getting on my nerves was the “bluurrppp wheeeeze,” that was coming repeatedly from beside me. I poked the hubby and said, “Can you snore any louder, ‘casue if you can, I need to get the guy from Guinness on the phone.” To which he replied, “Sngunawah.” So much for shutting him up.

Since I obviously was not going to be sleeping anytime soon, I decided I was going to close my eyes and think through where I wanted to take Isabelle, Rex and Michael in my next chapter. (She’s right now stuck in a holding cell with a hooker named Talaya and a mousey housefrau who ice picked her husband. Cliche much?) This lasted for all of about 15 minutes before I was out like a light, bluurrppp wheeeeze and all. Hope that’s not an indication of what my readers would do.

If I had any.

On the bigger and better news front, got three letters in the mail this weekend addressed “To the Parents of..’ fill in the blank with name of kiddo. I panicked for just a few moments, then realized what had happened. All three of the little suckers got Student of the Month this month. I get to go to an assembly on Friday and hear about how wonderful my kids are. All I can say is this proves each one of the little terrors have multiple personalities. But hey, at least they use the good one at school!